Ain't Love a Funny Thing?
by Shinderera
Summary: Harleen Quinzel has been kicked out of her parents' house because she had turned out to not be the daughter they wanted her to be. She moved into an apartment building complete with its own scarred maniac. Joker/Harley, minor Harley/Ivy
1. Neighbors

Detergent. And salt. She had to remember to get those. It was odd-living on your own for the first time. Being at home with your parents you forget that certain things are bought. Like salt. There was always an at least half full salt shaker on the table. Harley had never seen her mother buy salt or even fill the shaker. It just was there.

And detergent. Laundry! Sure Harleen had folded clothes and put things away. But never actually went out and bought detergent, separated laundry into piles based on color..And then there was fabric softener! There were so many kinds of fabric softener. So many brands of detergent. What was better? Liquid or the that dust-like detergent? Just being in the detergent scented asle and faced with so many choices was making Harleen's head spin. She wasn't so sure anymore. She was begining to think she couldn't do this.

_"You look at me when I'm talking to you young lady!" Her father shouted angrily. Harleen cringed. She had never meant for this to happen. She had never seen her father so angry at her before. She had always been his little girl. His only daughter. His pride and joy. Now...she felt like she was a complete failure. She had let him down. Disappointed him. She felt so..ashamed._

_Tears poured down her reddened cheeks. Her eye met his weaky. The utter repulsion in his eyes made her just want to die. Harleen couldn't speak, couldn't move. Her body felt like it was made out of lead. Heavy and numb._

_"How could you do this to us Harleen?" Her mother asked calmly. Coldy._

_"I-I'm sorry..I'm so sorry.." She whispered in a cracked voice. She knew it had been wrong. She knew it, but..it seemed even wronger to deny it. _

_"Sorry? Sorry? That's it? You're sorry? For the shame you've bought upon this family? Do you have any idea what you have done?" Her mother was different than her father. Almost worse. She was colder. Brutal. It stabbed at Harleen's heart. _

_"Mama please.." She pleaded. Her knees felt weak and it took all her strength not to just curl up and disappear. Her parents hated her now. She was a terrible daughter. _

_She had tried! She had done everything they wanted her to. She got into college and was studying to be a doctor. Just like they wanted. She had cut her time in the gym by half to devote more time to her studies, even though she had loved gymnastics since she was just a little girl. And just once- Just once she had thought of herself and now she was the worst daughter wished so badly that she could take it back. Not do what she did. It wasn't worth this._

_"Harleen..I can't even look at you now." Her mother threw arms up and walked away. Harleen dared a look at her father. He was looking at her with such..hate._

_"Harleen...I don't want you in my house." She nodded. Of course he didn't. _

The memory brought tears to her eyes. Tears that she angrily rubbed away. No. She could do this. She had too. She closed her eyes and picked the first bottle of fabric softener that her hand touched. There. Done. Now..to get some salt.

Who knew there were so many different salt brands?

Harleen made it home finally, after three hours of grocery shopping. It was the first time she had ever actually bought food. _Food_ food. Not junk or Ramen or potato chips. Food. Noodles and sauce to make pasta. Potatos, carrots, lettuce, salad dressing, etc. Silverware. Another thing she had taken for granted. Now she had bought her own two dollar set. Dishes. As of right now she had only three plates, two bowls, four cups and one coffee mug. Things that had always been available in abundunce at home.

Now her home was a small one bedroom apartment on the east side of town. Her parents lived one the wealthier west side. Her family wasn't rich, but comfortable. Now she was essentially poor and without a job. Harleen had filled out two applications already, but had yet to recieve any calls. Luckily she still had her cell phone. She had always paid her own phone bill. Her mother had wanted her to "start being independent",though the irony was that she paid her phone bill with the allowance money given to her by her father. She had never actually held a job before. The money that bought her apartment and her groceries was the money she had saved up for college and was in a bank account under her name.

She wanted to have a job before rent was due and not use up all her college money. Instead save it and have it in case of emergency. After all, it wouldn't be used for college anymore since she had had to drop out. It was on the other side of town, and she had no car yet. She didn't get an apartment closer to school because she couldn't afford those ones. What she had, was all she could get. And even so, without the support of her parents, there was no way she could pay for college anyway. Her savings would pay for one year at the very most.

Harleen sighed. It wasn't so bad though. Things could be worse. She could be completely homeless. That's right. She was lucky, Harleen told herself as she made her way up the stairs of the apartment buliding to her own little corner of it. The groceries were heavy, and she had carried them all the way from the store. She had a shouder bag that held some of the heavier things, such as milk. But still, her arms were aching desperately. Almost there, Harleen reminded herself as her door came into view.

She came to her door and dropped the groceries. She sighed in relief and basked in the removal of the painfully heavy groceries before digging through her purse to get her keys. Her arms were shaking. They were so tired, that even the simple act of moving was difficult for them. And her hands were numb from having the tight plastic handles digging into them, cutting off circulation. She found her keys and pulled them out of her purse. But when she went to put the key into the keyhole, her weakened hands couldn't seem to keep a hold of them, and they dropped to the floor. She sighed.

As she reached down to grab them, another hand that did not belong to her swiftly snatched them and held them out to her before she could even blink.  
"Oh thank you." She took her keys from the obviously male, white paint splotched hands.  
"You're qui**te** welcome _miss_." A nasally male voice said in response. Harleen looked up at the nice man's face and was shocked to see two jagged scars running across his face from his mouth. Like a morbid smile. She hoped her shock wasn't too evident. She didn't want to be rude. The man chuckled. His lips tugging into an actual smile.

"It's ok miss. Most people are-ah..s**t**ar**t**led by my ah, _appearence_." He grinned, the scars enhancing his grin, making him look..menacing.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Ah-ah," he stopped her apology with a finger held in front of her face. "No offense taken miss. I'm, ah Jack." He held out his paint smeared hand. Harleen took it, surprised by how nice he was. She smiled brightly at him, no longer phased by the scars, it seemed like something taht gangs woudl do to each other as punishment or something. He didn't seem like the sort of person to be in a gang. He was so nice. Though she was curious as to how he got them.  
"I'm Harleen Quinzel."

"A pleasure." He bent down slightly, his eyes never leaving hers as he brought her hand to his mouth and gave it a light kiss. Harleen giggled girlishly. Jack smiled and released her hand.

"I do not _recall_ seeing such a, ah, _beauty_ around here before. Did you just move inn-ah?" Harleen blushed at being called a 'beauty'. Her father had always called her 'beautiful', but hearing it from another man was something else entirely, even if her attentions were directed elsewhere. She nodded.

"Last week. Do you live here too?"

"I _do_. One floor up. The top floor. I like, ah _being on to__**p**_." Harleen flushed at the implications of his words. Jack noticed the reddness preading on her cheeks and grinned.

"Oh, you have groceries that I'm sure you must want to put away. Forgive me, it's been so long since I have spoken to such a lovely young lady." Harleen flushed bright red.

"Oh no please. I don't mind. In fact, um..would you like to come in for coffee?" She asked timidly. She didn't want him to leave just yet. He seemed like such a nice man, but more so he just seemed..interesting. Though Harleen wondered if that had anything to do with the fact that he kept referring to her as an attarctive woman.  
"_Believe_ me when I say I would _love_ too, Miss _Quinzel-ah_. _Love_ too. But unfortunate_llyy_..du**ty** calls. I must be getting to, ah, work now. But uh..rain check-ah?"  
"Alright." Harleen smiled, only minly disappointed. He said raincheck. Meaning he would be back to talk to to her. "Then I'll see you later Mr.-" She felt odd calling him by his first name when he was being so polite with her, but he had never stated his last name.

"Oh no please. Just call me, ah, Jack. Mister makes me feel,ah old-ah."  
"Only if you call me Harleen then." She bargained. Jack smiled almost deviously.  
"Then, _Harrleeen_, I'll see you ah later." She smiled and waved as he walked away. He gave a little wave as he disappeared down the stairwell.

Did I overdo the speech pattern? I don't know. I get the impression that Joker's speech pattern would become more noticable when he's trying to "woo" a girl.


	2. Beginning of a Legacy

_Jack_ left the apartment building quickly, a duffle bag over his shoulder. He smiled as he thought about his lovely new neighbor. She would be fun to play with in between his real acts of _fun_. She certainly seemed like a dumb floundering blonde and would be easy to fuck with. The only part he hadn't decided on if that was going to be both figurative as well as literal. Time will tell.

He got to his car and tossed the duffle bag in the back, not at all minding the explosive materials it contained. He got in and drove to the warehouse where the men he had hired were waiting. At least, the had _better _be waiting.

He had it all planned out. The only unfortunate thing was that everyone that was not him tended to be incredibly stupid. But he would have to 'trust' them to not mess up teh first part of his plan. After that it didn't matter because they would be dead.

It was a bit of a drive to his destination, but he found it was better that way. Keep a good distance from it as long as he had to maintain his "innocent civilian" act. Once he pulled into the parking lot, the sun was beginning to set. Perfect. He got out of the car and grabbed the duffle bag. He pulled out a Ziploc bag from the front compartment of the duffle bag and dumped its contents on the backseat of his car.

He grabbed a little jar that was covered in grime and with a lid that was only screwed halfway on. He pulled the lid off and scooped a generous amount of the white greasepaint and began smearing it all over his face. He didn't need a mirror. He really didn't care how it looked, as long as it got the point across. He pushed the lid as far it would go on the jar and then tossed the jar back onto the seat. There was a tube of lipstick and a small eye shadow case. He grabbed the case and opened it. The brush had long since disappeared, so he simply rubbed his finger in the black sooty concoction before smearing around his eyes. That done, the eye shadow joined the white greasepaint. Jack, soon the Joker, picked up the lipstick and uncorked it. The blood red stick of make-up had splotches of white paint smeared in it here and there. Joker pressed it to his mouth and swiped it across his lips and cheeks in quick single-stroke motions.

That done, he put the lipstick, shadow and greasepaint back into the Ziploc bag, but left it in his car. He pulled out a pair of gloves from his back pocket and slid them on. He then shouldered the duffle bag and walked to up to the chained entrance into the warehouse. At least, it looked like it was chained up. He grabbed one end of the chains and gave it a yank and they all fell to the hard dead grass covered ground with loud clinks. He kicked them out of his way and pushed the door open.

Inside about ten men were either watching TV from a small set that had a horrible picture, playing cards at a table in the corner, or playing pool. It was cute how they had set things up. A round table in one corner, where a few of them were playing cards. A TV and a couch that looked like it had been stolen from a garbage dump sat in the middle. And on the other side was a pool table with a small radio sitting on a stool. It looked like such a cozy little criminal hideout.

The TV was instantly shut off and all other actions of leisure ceased as soon as their boss walked in.

"Good evening gentlemen." Joker dropped his duffle bag to the ground and walked around, enjoying the way these buffoons were so easily intimidated.

Harleen buried her face in her only pillow to stifle her cries, even though she was the only person in the single bedroom apartment. Alone. Completely and utterly alone.

One week today since her parents had kicked her out. One week and she had been fine. Happy even. She was on her own and she was doing ok. She didn't have a job yet, but that would change soon. And everything would be fine. She had thought she could do this.

Putting away the groceries, the first groceries she had bought herself for herself, had put things into perspective for her.

She was alone.

Her friends had abandoned her, her family had disowned her, even she could barely stand to look at herself. Was she really so detestable that no one loved her?

_"Wait please! I know this can work out, just please don't leave me!" Harleen begged. She was crying so hard that her face was bright red, and she was gasping for air. But she didn't need air right now. She just needed Valery. The girl she had risked everything for and had fallen so in love with._

_"Harleen! Get a hold of herself! Look at you! You're pathetic and I'm not wasting my time with you. And I'm definitely not going to go down with you either. Unlike you, I have a future! I can't throw it away, especially not fir you!" Valery hissed at the weeping girl._

_Harleen stopped crying and looked up at Valery with wide glassy eyes._

_"You don't mean that..." She reasoned, more with herself than Valery._

_"But I do." Valery walked out of Harleen's bedroom just before her parents came home. Harleen sat hunched over on the pink carpeting of her bedroom floor, crying even harder than before. She didn't even care when she heard the front door open and her father's shoes thump across the tiled floor and the soft clicking of her mother's heels telling her that her parents were home and she now had to face them. Alone._

_She wiped her face and stood up. She fixed her floral summer dress, smoothing out the wrinkles and fingered her chestnut hair making it look less like a rat's nest. Her face was still red and raw from crying and she felt that she would burst into tears any moment, but she held it in. She had to face her parents. She knew they were waiting for her, and the longer she made them wait the worse it would be._

_With a deep breath, Harleen went downstairs._

_Her father was standing in the living room, still dressed in a suit and tie. Her mother in a gold dress, her fingers glittered with an assortment of rings. The stern pairs of eyes that belonged to her mother and father fell on her as soon as her foor hit the last step. She felt like she was being crushed under the massive waves of the ocean, suffocating her._

_"Mama, Daddy." She greeted them. The greeting was not returned. Harleen dared not walk any closer. She remained by the stair case, her hand clutching the rail as a life line._

_"Harleen. Your friend Valery's parents told us something very interesting. Would you like to tell us what you and that girl have been up to?" Her mother said in a cold, calculating voice._

_"Mama! It's not true! She's lying!" Harleen instantly broke into hysterics. Deny, deny, deny._

_"Harleen! Don't insult us with your lies anymore! We know! Can't you even own up to your treachery!" Her father's voice boomed. Harleen wanted to curl into herself and never be found again._

_"I..I'm sorry..I..I love her! And she made me happy!"And she had, for a short period of time at least. But it more than what anyone else had given her. No boy had ever made her feel what Valery had._

_"Do you have any idea what you're saying? Do you not realize what you have done?!" Harleen closed her eyes and wished. What for she didn't know. But she wished so very much._

Harleen's tears had calmed. She didn't want to cry anymore. She was so tired and thinking about everything just made her even more exhausted. She looked up from her futon bed at the pictures on her nightstand. One of her with her parents and one of her with Valery.

She knew she should get rid of them, but she couldn't. She kept wishing that Valery would call her and tell Harleen that she didn't mean it, and that she loved her. Harleen kept waiting for her parents to take her back and have everything be normal again.

But she knew it wouldn't happen. Of course she knew it. Valery had ditched her as soon as they had been found out. She had come over one last time to warn Harleen that they had been caught and to say good bye. She told Harleen what she really meant to her and then she left. Harleen wished Valery had lied to her. Told her that she loved her. The truth hurt so much, why couldn't she have just LIED?!

She waited for the tears to come, but they didn't. She couldn't cry anymore. She was so completely empty now and her heart was numb.

The Joker hummed as he set up the set of small bombs, giggling now and then. The giggling was somehow more unnerving to his henchmen than the fact that he was setting up explosives.

"Ok boys, set 'em up. " The Joker walked away and let the morons he hired to put the bombs in place. He couldn't trust them to rig them up though. Dumbasses would most assuredly set them off on accident.

The 'plan' was that after the Joker wired the bombs, his goons (he loved calling them that) would put them in the places he had designated earlier on the blueprints of the building. After the goons placed the bombs, they would get out of there and the Joker would hit the detonator. And then BOOM!

Joker began laughing out loud, earning a few unnerved glances from his hired help. They couldn't help but think that something bad was going to happen, something worse than just a building blowing up.

"Um..Boss?" Piped a worker drone that went by the name of Steve. Joker cast him an annoyed glance. He was new and therefore had not learned that it was unwise to question the Joker or even interrupt him. Ever.

"I was just wonderin'...why blow up this place? What could this achieve?" Another henchman, Jerry, tried to convery in hand signal that the newer member should Shut. The. Fuck. Up.

"Hmm..why you ask?" Jerry gave up and just went back to work. The guy was so dead and He wasn't going to get himself killed too. The Joker glided over to his idiot employee.

"Becaauuse I _can_." Joker reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, but sharp knife and held it up in front of Steve's face. "Becaauuse no one can stop me." He pressed the tip of the knife to Steve's cheek, the sharp point instantly breaking the skin causing blood to ooze forth. Steve jumped away. Joker laughed a maniacal blood thirsty laugh.

"This, gentlemen, is the beginning of a.._legacy_."

The building itself wasn't huge, no. Nor was it of great importance to Gotham. It was just a simple little storage facility. But by it being blown up, trade throughout the city would be slowed and quite a few people would lose some money. People would aggravated. It would..get the ball rolling.

"Remember boys. Ten minutes." A few hurried nods and the men got back to work. The Joker gave them about five minutes.


	3. A Caged Flower

"She's..certainly prettied up the place hasn't she?"  
"She has. Weird to think that she's..you know...not quite right."  
"Yeah, I know what you mean man. She even gets along with the younger patients. Hell! They look at her as some kinda..mother-figure."

"Yeah, especially that one kid. Lucy. The one who's family was murdered in front of her."

"Oh yeah. Poor kid. You know they say it was done by some new rising gang."

"I heard it was just one guy. Some kinda facial scaring and wore make-up."

"Probably just rumors."

"Probably."

The guards stood at the doors while they chatted, watching over the patients of Arkham as they enjoyed their free time. It was a nice day. Sun was out, and a gentle cooling breeze carried the scent of flowers throughout the courtyard. Flowers recently grown by one of Arkham's newer patients. She had only been at Arkham for six months, but already had brightened the place considerably with her amazing green thumb. It seemed as if she was growing the flowers from rocks, for they were everywhere now. And no one could deny that they had made Arkham a more..._curing _environment. The walls of Arkham were seeming less like prison walls with the vibrant daffodils and lilac bushes taking root around them. Even a few vines were growing, entwining themselves with the metal fences, and spouting colorful flowers. No. It didn't at all seem like a prison anymore. But like an Eden. Hell, even _butterflies _were fluttering around now.

This woman who had miraculously transformed the place in such a short amount of time was called Pamela Lillian Isley. A few inmates and a few guards even referred to as 'Pam' or more commonly 'Lily'. Lily seemed a more accurate nickname, especially considering the small pot holding a lovely Lily flower that sat on the window of her cell, and also because of the obvious.

Yes cell. It boggled even the guards how such a gentle woman, beautiful and sweet, had landed herself in Arkham. A place for the criminally insane or truly disturbed people. Even Arkham's children's ward was for horribly traumatized or deeply disturbed children. Such as Lucy, who had witnessed the horrific murder of her parents and older brother. She had been found sitting in the corner a few feet away from the bodies of her family, covered in blood. She kept giggling and rocking back and forth while muttering to herself. She had been brought to a regular hospital.

As a treat to the children, the nurses would play Disney movies or perhaps a kid's show that was on TV. This particular day Bozo the Clown was on and most of the children seemed to enjoy watching his show, at least the younger ones did. The preteens were not so amused. But nonetheless all the children sat down on the somewhat comfortable couches, eager for any sort of entertainment. But as soon as Bozo's laughing face came on the screen, Lucy began screaming. _Screeching_. Pulling at her hair and clawing at her own arms. She had had to be sedated immediately.

Shortly after she was moved to Arkham. She was ten years old.

When Pamela "Lily" came to Arkham, Lucy had immediately warmed up to her. Even her doctors said that Lily's presence had dramatically improved Lucy's mental state and she was now well on her way to Recovery. When she had first entered Arkham, her doctors feared she would never be able to fully function in society. Now it seemed she had a bright future ahead of her. Surely Lily herself seemed like an angel, heaven sent to the poor down trodden and mentally unstable patients inhabiting Arkham. It was easy to forget that she was just as much of a patient as the rest of them.

Lily had not walked into Arkham screaming or trying to tear her own skin off as many of the other patients had. No. She walked on calmly, her handles shackled in front of her proudly, her face perfectly stoic. Her hair was neat and her eyes did not shift around like they would of a paranoid patient. Even from the start she did not at all seem like she belonged. The more experienced doctors and guards at Arkham had learned that the less crazy a person seemed, the more they tended to be.

Lily seemed to not mind being at Arkham.

And indeed she didn't. She had nowhere else to go. She was allowed to surround herself with the beauty of nature, she did not have to work or deal with more people than she wanted too. She met a wonderful little girl that reminded her so much of herself. Lily had everything she needed right here. There was no place for her outside these walls. Not anymore.

Before the rage could build in her, Lily calmed down. Reminding herself that that part of her life was over now. She could spend the rest of her days in blissful ignorance and forget why she ever brought here in the first place. Yes. She could do that.

Tucking a lock of thick vibrant red hair behind her ear, Lily back into the building, giving each guard a smile. They smiled back. Lily was not considered a threat to herself or anyone else, and so she was free to wander the designated halls as she pleased until lights out. And then all patients must be asleep in their cells. Also, she of course had to attend therapy.

She walked down the long blindingly white hallway and then turned left. A moment later she was at the children's ward. She checked in with the nurse stationed there. As long as the older patients posed no threat in any way, they were allowed interaction with the children, as it was therapeutic to develop bonds for both the children and the adults. A method proven by Lily's bond with Lucy. Lily had not caused an ounce of trouble since she met Lily(she had been a bit stubborn upon first entering Arkham, such as refusing to eat) and Lucy was once again becoming a happy child.

It did cause a bit of concern though. Lucy would be allowed to leave Arkham soon and would be placed with her aunt and uncle who lived a bit a ways from Gotham. The effect this would have on Lily, who may never get out of Arkham, was uncertain.

Lily glanced around looking for the little girl who had become her only friend in Arkham. A smile brightly lit up her pale face when she saw the young girl sitting at a table drawing a picture. Lily walked over and sat on the chair opposite of Lucy. Lucy looked up and her eyes sparkled when she saw the woman she considered to be almost another mother to her.  
"Lily!" She put down her red crayon and the picked up the picture and held it up so Lily could see what she had drawn. Lily giggled.  
"I love it! It's marvelous Lucy!" Lucy had drawn her, and it warmed her heart. Lily was sitting on a large leaf, and she was wearing a dress covered with ivies. A crown of flowers sat on her head. Lucy was next to her, also with a flower crown and a lavender princess dress. Princesses of Eden.

"Damages done by severe plant overgrowth are still being repaired." The anchorman said as he walked over to the pile of rubble, the cameraman following him.

"If you look here, you can see how this _plant _grew under the building's foundation before finally completely toppling it over. Researchers are still unable to figure out the exact kind of plant this is. It is unlisted in any botany books and these devastating effects are completely unheard of." Said the anchorman exasperatedly. Fireman worked behind him, clearing the rubble. All survivors had already been evacuated and rescued. Now all that was left was to clean the pile of debris. And of course, figure out how this was even possible.

"The only thing clear about this case is who is responsible. A young woman with red hair had confessed. Confessed almost immediately after the building collapsed. Here is the footage that had been unavailable to the public before:"

The young woman had long very red hair, Harleen noted. Like it was dyed, but Harleen could see no roots. Sparkling forest green eyes regarded the policeman surrounding her cooly.

"You.._admit _that you did this?"  
"I admit it." The woman nodded, flabbergasting the policeman and everyone else watching this. Was she crazy?  
"Uhm..please state your name."  
"Pamela Lillian Isely."

"And you had been a student at the university?" Inquired the cop whose face could not be seen fir he was behind the camera. Pamela shook her head.

"No. I was a professor." A few eyebrows raised. She looked so young! But there an air of maturity about her. She was a woman, not a girl. "I was working with my colleague Professor Woodrue. We both specialized in botany."  
"Did he help you create this plant?"  
"No. He was unaware of my research." Her tone which had been monotone now took on a bitterness.

"Why did you decide to create a plant that could -and did- destroy the university? Why such a slow method?"

"It was..poetic justice." She smiled. Some of the men in the room had forgiven her already.

"Why the university?"  
"..That I will not tell you."  
"You know, that will only hurt your case more."  
"My case. Humph. I'm already going to be locked away for a very very long time Sir. I will not surrender my pride."

The footage ended. Harleen turned the TV off as soon as the reporter came back on to rant on again. Something about Arkham. She didn't care about him.

Pamela Lillian Isely.

Harleen smiled. Now that was a woman! Beautiful! Oh was she beautiful. Smart too. And even though she was the one being interrogated for a crime, she was the one in control.

She was calm, collected, brilliant and just..amazing! She was everything Harleen wished she was. Not afraid and without any care to what other people thought. This kind of woman set trends, not followed them. Harleen could only imagine how she was in the classroom. She bet every student hung on Pamela's every word and did exactly what she said. This was not a woman you questioned.

Harleen sighed. She wished she could meet her.


End file.
